On my own today ,I make cheese and pickle sandwiches and head off for Magpie Mine. The ghosts of the old miners hang in the mid September breeze and I am filled with a sense of melancholy.The sky is a huge canopy of blue. Clouds drift along dappling the far Western horizon with sunlight. Silence apart from a handful of Rooks haggling over something unknown. I wander around for a while before heading home.
A Broken Consort “Crow Autumn”.
A quick return to Stanton Moor with my artist friends Maarit Paavilainen and Jenny Fry. It’s their first time on the Moor so we have fun and I regail them with the little information I possess about the ancient stones. They do some sketching while I create a “Ritual Stone Intervention” . Another beautiful afternoon ,Stanton is silent allowing us to go about our business with due reverence. Magical.
The swallows and house martins silently slipped away this week. Funny how they know it’s time. Unusually we had about 10 garden warblers feeding in the garden at breakfast time. They were so delightful to observe. Our local robin was not too happy with them though.
Friend and collaborator @Billy Bye arrives for cheese scones and coffee. It’s not long before we head out. The morning is blustery in that typical mid September way not summer and not autumn .We head high Billy is wanting Low Horizons and I know where to find them. The views are amazing ,the wind batters our faces but we are where we love to be. The clouds clear ,we catch sight of a flock of rooks and jackdaws crossing the skyline. It’s perfect.
Stanton Moor late afternoon.Warm and uncannily still as the Moor often can be.A sense of waiting hangs in the air.Autumn is in the wings. The Nine Ladies stone circle is a focal point for most visitors but often the quiet forgotten corners of the moorland are where the magic waits hidden among the silent Oak groves and birches .The stones have their own power but when tourists are doing their thing and those with a more irreverent motive are present the circle remains silent.Good to see the oak tree by the stones shorn of the vestments of the needy .Pay homage yes, say a prayer by all means but hanging plastic regalia is hardly a token of reverence. Digging coins into the tree is even worse !! Best leave no trace just hold the memories and moments in the heart! The old oak near the trig point is my favourite tree. His back bent against the elements I suspect he will outlive me.The view is awesome and as ever the huge sky reminds me that I am here for just a moment! Make the most of each minute and as you pass by leave a smile !
A lovely September morning crisp and clear.We walk to the Transmitter Mast along Sheldon Lane.We stop enraptured by swallows and house martins hanging around an old Ash tree.A kestrel gives them a surprise and they gang up to chase him off.We can hear a Raven ‘cronking’ and spy him in combat with a full grown Buzzard. The Buzzard needs no encouragement to soar away above our heads.One of the most thrilling sights in nature. Near the mast a Buzzard feather is laying in the road .A token for me.It is a stunningly beautiful day ,the views east are magnificent. Returning home we avoid being run down by cyclist who miss another Raven / Buzzard encounter above their heads!
Listening : Richard Moult ” Sjòraust”
Dusk/edgelands walk foraging fresh juicy blackberries on Stanage Road.The first sense of the season beginning to change.Clear pink tinged sky and a gentle fresh breeze. 50 or so swallows and house martins above our heads. Feasting on midges and chattering about the long journey south they are soon to undertake. As darkness fall we catch sight of a little owl perched on his favourite fence post ! He is often there. We walk home under the half moon shining brightly to guide us.
Listening : SPACESHIP : “fields,churches and rivers”